


Repair Shop Stop

by RaeBans



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, just something sweet for the kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeBans/pseuds/RaeBans
Summary: Joe is looking for some skate supplies. When he walks into a random repair shop on a summer day, he is surprised to find you, one of his S competitors, working behind the counter.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	Repair Shop Stop

It’s another hot day, you think to yourself as you lazily flip to the next page of the newest edition of Skate Monthly. You are behind the front counter in your family’s modest repair shop. Your father and elder brother serviced cars in the garage, and you and your mother repaired bikes, skateboards, and skates in the front. Your mother isn’t here today, though; she’s off retrieving a specific piece for an important client’s board. 

It’s okay though. She’s been leaving you to run the shop alone ever since you were sixteen, so today was nothing special. 

You hear the bell at the front door ring.

Normally, you’d be more excited when a customer entered the store. You are a tinkerer at heart, just like everyone else in your family. Making repairs is your passion. Beside the feeling of accomplishment it gave you, you loved seeing the faces of happy customers when their bikes and boards are returned to them better than ever.

But it’s too hot for all that enthusiasm today. 

“Welcome,” you say in an indifferent voice . You don’t stop reading your magazine. 

A deep, masculine voice says, “I’m just looking for some new wheels for my board.”

You can hear his footsteps grow closer as he approaches the counter. His feet sound heavy. You still don’t look up, flipping another page.

“We got wheels. What kind do you need?”

“Something grooved, like those shark whe...” his voice trails off for a moment, “Wait, Takeoff?”

Your eyes widen when you hear your S name. You look up quickly and see a pair of burgundy ones staring back at you through messy, forest green hair. Of course you recognize him instantly, even when he’s not in his skating getup. It's Joe. You can’t believe you didn’t recognize his voice. He carrying his skateboard and wearing a short-sleeved orange button down, ripped jeans, and a pair of brown boots. He smiles and waves at you, but you pretend to not know him. 

“Actually, it’s (Surname).”

Joe frowns, “No, Takeoff, it’s me Joe, from S?”

You lunge across the front counter, covering his mouth with your hand. You shoot him a sharp glare, but he just blinks owlishly like he’s not quite sure why you’re upset. You sit back in your seat and rub your temples.

“I know it's you. You know the whole point of S is it’s supposed to be secret, right?” you sigh and grumble under your breath, “I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Cherry-san was right. He’s an idiot.”

Joe’s eye twitches. He isn’t quite sure what you said, but he’s certain he heard the word “cherry” leave your lips. 

“Hey! What did that shitty four-eyes say about me?”

“It doesn’t matter, you idiot. What did you need again?”

“Oh, new wheels," he says, immediately defused by the change in subject.

“Let me have a look.” 

Joe hands you his skateboard. You’ve seen it plenty of times before while Joe was racing. You always thought the fish-shape of his deck was funny-looking, but, up close, it was kind of cool. You’d never tell him that though. There’s no reason to give him an even bigger head. Still, you thought the art on the back was wicked. You run your finger over the golden Japanese style fish and notice that its eye is the same star shape as the tattoo on his left shoulder. You take a look at the unorthodox, square-shaped wheels; the groves are definitely a little worn down. 

You hum and hand the board back, “I think we might have something like that. Hold on.” 

You walk over to a big, black tool box and start searching for the wheels. The shop falls quiet; the empty space is filled with the hum of the air-conditioner. You peek over at Joe. He is standing there patiently with his free hand playing with the end of his shoulder-length hair. He looks like he’s uncomfortable with the silence and wants to say something, but doesn’t know if he should or not. You sigh. He is an idiot; idiots need to be helped out the most.

“So, uh, Sole?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

“Sole?”

“Yeah, it’s written on your deck. It says sole, like in feet?”

“Oh,” Joe laughs, looking down at his board, “It’s actually sounds like Sóle.”

“Só... Sóle?” you hesitantly pronounce the word, “It sounds foreign.” 

“It is. It’s Italian for ‘sun’.”

“You speak Italian?”

“Solo un po. I lived in Italy for a while when I was in culinary school. I trained under a master there.”

“That’s … that’s actually pretty cool.”

Joe puffs out his chest. You don’t have to look at him to know his head is currently swelling. You finally find the wheels you’re looking for and put them in a small, black velveteen bag. 

“Don’t get a big head. You’re still an idiot. Here,” you say as toss the baggie towards him, “They’re a little bigger than the size you have now, but they should be good.”

“Thanks, Take- oh, I mean (Surname). How much do I owe you?”

You wave your hand dismissively, taking your seat behind the counter and opening your magazine again, “Bring me over some pasta and we’re square.”

Joe grins, and you feel a small blush rise to your cheeks.

“It’s a deal! Bye, (Surname)-chan! I'll see you later," he says as he walks out of the store.

The door closes behind him. You're left all alone again. You flip to another page and laugh to yourself.

"See you later, Joe."


End file.
